Harry's POV

The cold ground woke me, and I rubbed my eyes before opening them to the gentle light of the dawn. It was cold, but not cold enough to deter me and I hugged my body slightly for warmth to try and wake myself up. There was an awful pain in back that had come from sleeping on the hard ground for a few days, and I cricked my neck to try and relive some of the stiffness inside me.

I had run from the centre, and run faster than I had ever run. The minute the flames started flickering, I felt like something awful would happen. So I ran like the coward I was. In that moment I wasn't thinking of anyone but myself, and I made my way down the back allies by the centre; I was trying to get as far away from the centre as I could before anyone noticed that I was gone.

It only struck me the morning after that I hadn't told Phoenix where I had gone, and she had probably assumed that I had died inside the burning building. I couldn't risk going back to tell her the truth, and that I was still alive, so instead I hid away on the roadside trying to find somewhere to go.

The whole world thought I was dead, which could have been a blessing in disguise but I felt like it was only trapping me more. I couldn't turn to anyone for help, because they would notify everyone that I was alive which would only probe more questions.

A car rushed past me, and I looked around at the roadside that was acting as my shield. I was on the side of a motorway, and stowing away in the trees that lined the road. It was a tip by the side of the road, and disgusting dirtied clothes and plastic bags littered the whole ground but at least I was hidden.

"Where to go..." I whispered to myself as I watched the cars past me, all going to important places no doubt.

I wanted to take the centre down by myself, and I knew that the documents saved from the fire wouldn't be enough to stop Smith. He'd find a way out of it all, and I needed concrete proof if I wanted to really cage him.

My hands wouldn't stop shaking as I thought about the fire and how much of a madman I had been. There were so many other ways that I could have taken Smith down, so many more rational ways, but instead I chose the one that left me homeless and dead to the world.

"Fuck," I shouted out loud but no one heard due to the roaring of cars beside me, and I guess that was all for the best.

My brain started to overthink the whole situation, the fact that I'd have to come up with a new name for myself, a new life, a whole new identity. I had no one, but for once I didn't feel completely alone. Maybe the prospect of this new life was so daunting and terrifying that I didn't have time to feel such frivolous emotions.

I kept thinking about Phoenix, and how she was probably worried sick if not mourning me. I had hope that she wouldn't think me dead, but what else can you think when a person doesn't come out of a burning building? My parents didn't cross my mind much, they were practically strangers to me by this point. I hadn't seen them in months, they hadn't come to visit at all, and I still resented them for sending me to that hellhole in the first place.

Angry and overwhelmed tears forced themselves out of my eyes, and I began to cry under the greying sky. It was the sort of cry when everything gets too much, and you feel overwhelmed by the world around you. My breathing quickened to a pace that was higher than I'd ever felt, and I was worried that soon I'd find myself in a panic attack that I was not equipped to deal with.

Calming down finally, I told myself to relax and closed my eyes for a second. The road still roared beside me, and the air was still cool, and the world was still very much the same. I had to remind myself that, and that my life wasn't immediately destroyed. From the fragments of my life I had smashed up, I could make something out of it.

So I started walking, following the direction of cars into a new city away from London; I couldn't turn back now, and I had do this alone. It was daunting but exciting, and I held my breath almost as I moved, step by step, towards a future that I hadn't planned for.

There was a dirtied teddy bear that had been thrown out of car that lay on the grass beside me, and it smiled warily. I couldn't shake the image of it as I walked on, and I contemplated going back to get it but the prospect of germs and diseases the toy could have harboured stopped me. There was something melancholy about the pink stuffed animal that stuck with me, and I burst out crying again as I thought about a child losing their favourite toy, and how long that teddybear had been stuck outside alone.

But I left it alone, and moved on. I didn't have time to be sentimental.

Harry is alive! Were you worried? What's his new life going to be like, and will he ever seen Phoenix again?

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